One Night At The Bronze
by Spikevampluva
Summary: A tale inspired by the passion that exists between Spike and his true love Buffy.


**One Night at the Bronze**

Spike wandered through the Bronze, one eye on the Slayer and another eye on the dartboard on the other side of the room. He frowned and thought that he should really see an optometrist. He took a rough ready swig of the beer he was holding, making a noise of satisfaction and sitting it down heavily on the side of the pool table. He took a puff of a cigarette and with heavy eyelids stared once more at an oblivious Buffy through a haze of smoke.

Breathing in heavily, a sexy smirk sliding into place on his high angled cheekboned face, a pool cue thrust phallicly against the side of his leg, running the tip of his finger across the top, bending over to line up his shot, raising and shaking his buttocks, sheepishly remembering that Buffy was a chick and that the mating dance of the prancing backside may not work quite as effectively on her as it did on…no. Spike swore that the name of Xander would never pass his lips again unlike the nine inches of carpenter's wood that had passed it a previous night. But that was another time, and another song.

And yes, a song, a song of love, of passion, a song that could encapsulate the love that was his for his blonde, beautiful powerful glory that was Slayer. His Slayer. A song that could mean that many, many words did not need to be written out because they were already there, conveniently done by someone else.

He made his shot and watched as three balls elegantly glided into the pockets, okay they technically weren't his balls, but that wasn't important. Not now when the haunting lyrics of U2 started up and his lady was in the bar and he had so much love to offer.

_Is it getting better  
Or do you feel the same_

Yes, he thought. This was so true. So deep. Buffy had been suffering from depression, deep soul destroying depression. He did wonder if she still felt that way because otherwise she might not want to walk in the dark with him, the darkness that mirrored her dark depression, the emptiness of her heart that could be filled once more with the fullness of his love. Plus it might be harder to get into her knickers if she was feeling all perky again. He frowned, the pool cue cracking somewhat under his repetitive stroking.

_Will it make it easier on you  
Now you got someone to blame_

Blame me, Spike's inner voice cried. Lay your pain on me, lay it on me hard. All night long with your pain laying and clenching. Give it to me Buffy, give me your sweaty pain.

_You say one love, one life  
When it's one need in the night_

There was so very much need in the night, but more often the day, Spike realised. When he was actually in bed.

_It's one love  
We get to share it  
It leaves you baby  
If you don't care for it_

Spike shook his head at the naivety that was Bono. Oh yes, they knew of love, they knew of…oneness. But there was no way that he'd leave his Buffy Munchkin. Hell, he thought, He'd have to be litterally on fire and his organs dustily exploding about the place to leave his Buffy. And that would never happen.

_Did I disappoint you  
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth_

He frowned once more, thinking that perhaps he should cut down on his coriander and beer diet.

_You act like you never had love  
And you want me to go without  
Well it's too late tonight  
To drag the past out into the light_

That would all be about Angel, that bit, Spike sniffed. What with Buffy never having had love, just a frantic in and out that had finished as quickly as Angel's soul slid off. Not like him, hell he'd keep going till his balls were the size of melons and the networks had brought out their new season line-up, that's how much of a pleasure slave he'd be to his hot little, and until then, greatly dissatisfied, Slayer.

_We're one but we're not the same  
We get to carry each other, carry each other  
One_

Well, Buffy was light and very teeny, so there'd be no problems on his side carrying her about. He did worry about the reverse though. Not that his little fair-headed twiglet of love wasn't strong, but he did envisage her becoming blinded and smothered as his coat engulfed her causing them to stumble into oncoming traffic.

_Have you come here for forgiveness  
Have you come to raise the dead_

He was certainly dead and had the plentiful supply of cold seed to prove it. Gallons of the stuff He nodded his head in approval, and yes, one day Buffy would come and beg him for forgiveness, forgive him for not wanting his hard lean body, a muscular body with rosy tipped nipples, cheekbones that could slice through paper and eyes that could slice through your very soul, a pert frisky backside and a slab of man meat that could exhaust a Duracell Bunny. He leant the pool cue in front of him and adjusted his coat as bits of anatomy leapt to attention over the hotness that was him.

But wait, there were more lyrics…

_Have you come here to play Jesus  
To the lepers in your head_

Buffy too had died and been resurrected. He really hoped that she didn't have leprosy of the brain though. Though he was quite good at dealing with the nutters.

_Did I ask too much  
More than a lot  
You gave me nothing  
Now it's all I got_

Spike dashed away a crystalline tear. God, it was so true, and he was so deep with his pain.

_We're one but we're not the same  
We hurt each other, then we do it again_

If only Buffy would come to her senses and learn to stop the hurting and just give in and embrace him and his penis. If only, Bono, he inwardly cried. If only.

_You say love is a temple  
Love a higher law  
Love is a temple  
Love the higher law_

Spike's lip curled. He didn't like laws, because he was a bad ass, a man without rules, a man who wasn't into frilly cuffs and collars though he was quite partial to dressing up in lacy frocks now and again. He was a law unto himself. But also, he conceded, a follower of the Law of Love. Because love wasn't brains, it was law. Or blood or something.

_You ask me to enter but then you make me crawl_

Yeah, he would so crawl for Buffy, crawl and debase himself and call her Mistress and asked to be spanked while wearing a sailors outfit. He decided to leave that bit out until the second date.

_And I can't be holding on to what you got  
When all you got is hurt  
One love, one blood, one life_

Another crystalline tear sped down his cheeks at those beautiful words of lyrical poetry. That was so him and Buffy. No, hang on, that was him and Dru. He decided to ignore those slime loving antler shitty lyrics.

_You got to do what you should  
One life with each other  
Sisters, brothers_

Spike frowned and looked into the distant. Sisters and brothers. But that would be wrong.

_One life but we're not the same  
We get to carry each other, carry each other  
One  
One_

Spike threw himself onto the pool table and sobbed bitterly, crying for the love that was meant to be, the oneness that was them, Buffy and Spike. One. Spuffy or Buke. No, Spuffy. He discretely wiped his nose on the cloth of the pool table and straightened up his coat labels, a determined look on his face and Buffy in his vision.

Tonight, tonight they would be one!


End file.
